Recently, as propelled by the MKMMA, I have agreed to participate ….or jumped to the opportunity which presented itself to a few hours and silence and flight training. Silence actually was easy, too easy, which is not be confused with myself being a Platonic personality but rather experienced in a few disciplines; the latter having grown up without electronics, even TV, and climbing mountains in the Alps. We would have to shut up in order to be able to breath while climbing up endless inclines and walls. As a reward, our father would tell us one of his fascinating stories that made us forget that our feet were hurting. “Shutting my trap” (military speak) for 36 hours was minimal compared to having been locked into a dirty apartment comparable structure in Kampala, Uganda, when the “current administration” took over (which has not vacated their seat thence..) —-over thousands of dead bodies—-. I remember flying back to Europe, not talking and in no mood talking even though not having talked for a few weeks. Then and now and always that I can recall, I have been a deep thinker about the key questions to move us humans, “why are we here and is there someone out there who cares?” Having faced death several times in my life, I know. The way I know is best explained in a parable: A woman (could be a man too, but I am female, therefore a woman) fell into a hole and found herself stuck in mud without capability to “step” her way out of the dilemma. A Buddhist walked by and the woman screamed, “HELP!!!” The Buddhist stopped and told the woman to meditate and find her inner peace. The woman, now even more frantic, when she could not get out nor receive help, with the mud pulling her lower, screamed even louder and more desperate, “HELP HELP HELP I AM DYING.” A philosopher walked by and told her in a stern voice to use her “thinking apparatus to gain perspective and apply a combination of Stoic and Epikurean thought to think herself out of her misfortune. Next a physician offered her a few gamma rays and pills, which were absorbed by the ever moving wet mud. The woman now convicted that she was not worth more than mud and ready to die, said, rather solemnly, “God if you are real and there, would you please give me your peace and, if possible, rescue me?” A carpenter, looking like he was out of a Jesus movie, walked by, jumped into the mudhole and pushed her up and out. The woman looked for her rescuer and found him nowhere but inside of her, she had PEACE, she knew that she was precious and worth dying and living for.
In one of the situations i encountered, when I was dying, i cried to the same carpenter, calling him, Joshua, and i found myself, withing hours, safe and well. God is the foxhole and in the ICU; in the homeless shelter and in the outhouse. He is still in the rescuing business as He has paid a BLOOD SUM for all of us. He had set His Love on us and will not let us go as long as we know Who He Is. Silence has re-connected me with events from the past that have made me who I am and my eyes are tearing when thinking of those in the fox holes right now. Silence has propelled me to re-commit to my DPM, not for the exercise’s sake but for the sake of those who depend on it. There are troops to be connected to a 24/7 prayer line and African women to be given opportunities to provide for their families, after the Joseph Koni’s and the Boko Haram and the El Shabbab have attempted to ransack their homes. All these lambs have need of a Savior, not only for eternity but also here, NOW. “I know that to court idleness is to steal food, clothing and warmth form those I love.” Today i encounter my destiny, and my destiny is to become the greatest saleswoman in the world.
“The highest form of love is to be the protector of another person’s solitude.” Rainer Maria Rilke
I ALWAYS KEEP MY PROMISES!!!